Ugly tree the root of true meaning
It was Christmas 1983. As a newly divorced mom with two small daughters, I was carrying a heavy burden of a failed marriage. I was struggling financially, and it was all I could do to make a mortgage payment, buy groceries and everything else to keep my little family afloat.
I desperately wanted to give my kids a good Christmas in spite of the recent turmoil in their young lives. Cabbage Patch Kids were big that year and, of course, my girls wanted what every other little girl would have under their Christmas tree. Thank goodness for lay-a-way, which allowed me to buy them the things on their wish lists.
Our family tradition was to purchase and decorate a live tree soon after the first of December. I’m “old school” and never had an artificial tree, so when it came time to buy a tree, I worried about the cost. I heard that someone was selling Christmas trees east of town on the side of the road and that they were cheap. I was so excited! We loaded up in the car and set out to buy a live tree.
When we found the man parked along the road, we also found the ugliest trees you could ever imagine. They were small, scrawny cedar trees that you could find growing in a field. The kind that landowners hate and consider a nuisance. But for $5 a tree, and two little girls sitting in the car with anticipation in their eyes, I had no choice but to buy one.
We managed to get it home. The trunk was cut on the diagonal, it was not straight, and it was so itchy it stung my hands to touch it. So, with gloves on, I positioned it in the tree stand, more than once, and finally got it to stand upright. We gingerly placed our lights and ornaments on the worst tree I had ever seen.
My girls were delighted that we had a real tree with pretty decorations. They never complained about its size, its lack of beauty, or that it was scratchy and crooked. They knew Santa would come and he would find their Christmas tree where under it he would place their Cabbage Patch dolls and other toys.
I’ve thought of that Christmas a lot over the years. In spite of everything that was against me, my kids had a good Christmas. I am reminded that my Christmas is what I make of it. If it is about spending time with my family and friends and thanking God for His gift to all humanity, I have grasped the true meaning of Christmas. If I am fretting about spending money, decorating the house appropriately, and buying gifts to outdo what was done last year, I’m afraid I have missed the boat.
My reality check is to remember that Christmas 40 years ago when all I wanted for Christmas was to see my children happy during a stressful period in our lives. Even now, the memory of that ugly tree, decorated with love and handmade ornaments, warms my heart and reminds me of the true meaning of Christmas.
Nancy McVey is a mother to Cathryn and Stacy, grandmother to Mason, and married to James Lanier. She worked for Supreme Court Justice Joe Watt for many years and retired in 2016.